Letters from the Coalmine's Canary
by hannelore
Summary: Harry has been sent from Hogwarts by Dumbledore in an effort to protect him. Harry writes Snape, but Snape is under orders to not write back. Part of the "Angels in the Asphalt" universe


They took Harry.  
  
It was the night before Yule, the Yule Ball had been cancelled because so many parents wanted their children home forthe holidays and possibly for good. Three more familes had been killed last Saturday night, just outside of Hogsmeade.  
  
Severus didn't know Harry was gone until he happened upon Albus consoling Granger.  
  
"In the middle of the night?" she sobbed, beating her fists against Albus as he tried to hold her. "Couldn't even let us s-say guh-goodbye?"  
  
He waited until Minerva led Granger away to lift a questioning eyebow, his only movement.  
  
"I've sent Harry Potter into hiding," Albus said. Severus wished he had Granger's fists, to easily lash out. Instead, he waited for what followed.  
  
"The attacks are getting closer to the school," Albus continued. "I felt it best to send him away. He is well guarded."  
  
"Where?"  
  
Albus turned away, toward the entrance to his office.  
  
"Excuse me, Severus, I've several owls to send."  
  
Where?  
  
...  
  
The old fool was too embarassed to tell it to his face.  
  
//Severus,  
  
If you receive any correspondence from Harry, you *must* not reply. Regular concealment charms will not work.  
  
-Albus//  
  
The first owl arrived the week after Yule.  
  
//Severus,  
  
I don't know where I am. They drugged me, I think. I was going to see the meteors with Hermione, but when I woke, I realized it was morning. I wasn't home. I don't now any of the Aurors here, they're no warmer than bloody Dementors. What's going on?   
  
love,  
  
Harry//  
  
Severus glanced at his desk, the clean parchment mocking him. Just a brief notice, who would know?  
  
...  
  
Two days later.  
  
//You didn't reply. *Please* let me know if you received my owl! One of the Aurors... Arkady? told me I'm here for my protection, Dumbledore's orders. Why won't you write me?   
  
You aren't going to write me. My protection. Fuck.//  
  
...  
  
Severus was hunched over a cauldron when the latest owl arrived. The potion he was working on required metronome-steady care, down to stirring. But what made him look up was that the owl was Hedwig. No one else knew where Harry was, but that bloody two-bit snowball got to him. Hedwig dropped the post nearby and Severus ripped it open as he added the silvered shrivelfig.   
  
He knew he couldn't read it now, the potion... Severus added an ingredient, read a few words. Stirred, twice. Another two words. The potion and the post went together like a dance.  
  
//Severus, you//  
  
dash, two, no leaves just petals.  
  
//can't imagine what//  
  
stirred, sunwise, three revolutions //is happening, why doesn't//, stop. Two drops. Three drops. //anyone tell me!. Tell me// Stirred, counterclockwise. One drop. //I'm sick of//   
  
The fire was too hot, Severus made a hasty maneuver to lower the heat. //not knowing. No one// Stir again. A thin film of sweat upon his upper lip. He knocked the letter to the ground with his elbow, he couldn't concentrate. Hedwig picked it up helpfully, dropping it beside him. She landed on his shoulder.  
  
"Get off, you bloody bird," Severus said, waving a distracted hand at the owl.   
  
She nipped his ear. Severus' saw the post and he saw the next heartbeat. //cares. No one cares?//  
  
The potion made an odd blurping sound and Severus glanced at the cauldron. The flames had risen again, it had boiled over, it was ruined. Hedwig nipped his ear again, harder. Severus felt the sting of the owl's sharp beak tear into the delicate curve.  
  
He picked up the letter.  
  
//Write me.//  
  
...  
  
Severus noticed that two weeks passed without a letter. His lectures were stiff and unaffected, except when Harry's class came around. The Weasley boy sat alone at the bench, occasionally glancing over to the empty seat.   
  
After his last day's class, he was refilling some phials when the owl flew in the door. It wasn't Hedwig. How in the world was Harry getting these owls out at all? Severus didn't care, he opened the seal and read.  
  
//Dear Severus,  
  
I guess you haven't written because you're not supposed to. I'm only guessing this because I haven't received post from anyone. I've figured out I'm in London, but among the muggles. I'm never alone and I mean *never,* but it always seems to be a different person every day. It's no one I know. I wish they'd send Mad-Eye or Tonks, someone I could talk to, but these Aurors are all business and nobody's business.  
  
The only thing about them is that they treat me like I'm some ancient relic. I cut myself shaving the other day and you'd have thought I'd slit my throat. I'm the canary in this bloody coalmine, they look at me like a barometer. Expecting me to fall over and collapse, speaking in tongues, the gibberish that will lead them to Voldemort. I've half a mind to pretend, just to shake them up a bit.  
  
It's snowing now. Hedwig came once, but I haven't seen her since then. Did she bite you properly like I told her? You can get me back for it when I see you. I miss you. I'm so cold.  
  
love,  
  
Harry//  
  
...  
  
After the new year, the war intensified. Classes were cancelled briefly, there just weren't enough students to teach with parents keeping many home. The mood around the table at Grimmauld place was difficult at best. Dumbledore spoke about the latest attacks, various positions of strengthening in areas around Hogsmeade... Severus let the background fade as he was listening to something else.  
  
//"What will we do when the war ends?"  
  
Harry was lying naked on his stomach in Severus' bed, his body curled around at Severus' feet, his fingers lightly stroking one ankle.  
  
"What do you think we should do?" Severus asked. Their lovemaking had been over for a hour at least, one of those sessions where the silliness had outweighed the sex and Harry had laughed when he came. Delicious, giddy laughter. Severus' heart still rang with that chime.  
  
Harry drew his fingertips over the arch of Severus' foot, fingernails lightly prickling his sole. He seemed to be musing at this.  
  
"You should continue to teach and I'll be your adoring assistant," Harry said.  
  
"I'd never concentrate with you in the classroom," Severus said with a snort. He twitched his foot slightly. "That tickles. Stop."  
  
"Okay, then I'll take over as Potions Master and you can be my adoring assistant," Harry said, rolling over and peering up at Severus between his thighs. Severus reached down and touched his nose lightly with his index finger.  
  
"You make it sound like a streetside magic act of the muggles," Severus said. "Rabbits out of hats and the like."  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"And for my next trick..." Harry nudged his tongue against Severus' cock.//  
  
"And of Harry?"  
  
Severus snapped from his reverie, listening. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"He is safe and well," Dumbledore said. Remus Lupin interrupted.  
  
"Is anyone else going to be able to see him soon?" Remus said. "His close friends are terribly worried, particularly with not being able to write him."  
  
"I realize it is frustrating for them," Dumbledore said patiently, "but at this time, no."  
  
The laughter faded in Severus' head.   
  
Yet still the owls came. The letters were bored, restless letters as if from summer camp. Harry wrote as if he realized Severus was not going to write back and it became a regular journaling that Severus looked forward to receiving. Sometimes the letters came weekly, sometimes three days in a row.  
  
...  
  
One morning, Severus saw the corner of a postcard on the back of his bathroom mirror. The card was old, but he remembered it as soon as he pulled it out and turned it around.  
  
//To: Severus Snape, Potions Master,   
  
Potions Classroom, The Loo  
  
Did I catch you at a bad time?  
  
ha ha  
  
love,  
  
Harry//  
  
...  
  
Winter was dissolving into spring. Harry's letters became more disconcerting.   
  
//WRITE ME. I don't care if you're not supposed to. Write me, you insensitive bastard. Write me now, write me write me, write me please. One word. Just one word. Or just your address, anything. Anything, Severus please. Please.//  
  
School was cancelled completely as fighting broke out in the streets of Diagon Alley late in April. Death Eaters attacked a field trip of first years and one child died. The meetings at Grimmauld Place became more frequent. In the Prophet, the name of the Ministry was becoming a laughing stock, even more than it ever had been before. Voldemort was never seen. The Dark Mark hovered in the sky like a black stain for days.  
  
//I felt him.   
  
I finally got my hands on a Prophet. Is it true, all the attacks? What am I doing here, why can't I be there fighting? Why can't I be there at all?  
  
He's strong, stronger than I've ever felt him. I'm being good, I've blocked him several times and I felt him retreat. I had a headache for two days after that, but I did it. I can protect myself, *tell* Dumbledore I can protect myself.   
  
I have to get out, I have to come back.  
  
I don't care if he kills me, I'm going crazy here, I'm dying. If I said I was dying  
  
would you come for me?//  
  
...  
  
Dumbledore sent an owl to Remus Lupin.  
  
//Remus,  
  
He smashed his laboratory last night. I can't control him anymore than I can tell him about Harry. Please make him see reason, I know I can't.  
  
A.D.//  
  
Remus knocked on the door to the Potions classroom. There was no answer, but he tried the door anyway and walked inside. He crunched glass under his boot as he closed the door behind him. The classroom smelled of burnt magic. Severus sat at his desk, tracing his finger down a piece of parchment.  
  
"Severus, listen, I..."  
  
"Have you been to see him?"  
  
Remus stopped. He hesitated to tell the man the truth, yet...   
  
"Yes."  
  
Severus' gaze hardened into dangerous fury.  
  
"They said *no* one would see him."  
  
"He... Dumbledore thought it best if someone close to him went to see him," Remus said.  
  
"And?" Severus said, barely able to keep the mockery out of his voice. "How is he?"  
  
Again, Remus hesitated and Severus crumpled the parchment under his fingers.  
  
"Don't lie."  
  
"He's not well," Remus said quietly, avoiding looking directly at Severus. "He's... confused."  
  
"Of course he's bloody confused, he..." Severus said angrily, but Remus interrupted.  
  
"I don't know what you did to him, Severus," Remus retorted. "But he's just a boy and this... infatuation... is unhealthy. He's very fragile right now, you just can't..."  
  
"Infatuation?" Severus said coldly. He pushed the parchment toward Remus. "Harry has been writing me ever since he was *stolen.* Do you really want to know how Harry's doing, Lupin? Did he tell you? Did he tell you of the nightmares, the sensation of fingernails over his skin, the helplessness he feels unable to anything because he is locked in a cage by an old fool?"  
  
Severus' voice began to rise.  
  
"Did he tell you he thinks he's losing his mind? That he is nothing but a fortune teller's crystal in this shell game that we are *losing,* more people die every day and yet we lock him away. Did he show you the fingernail scratches he makes to feel alive, the view from his only window? Did he tell you that the only way to keep the nightmares away is to remember the one person who would never let him go?  
  
Infatuation? How dare you."  
  
Remus stood quietly stunned, his voice low.  
  
"You're right," he said. "There's nothing I can say to that."  
  
"You tell Albus that," Severus said calmly. "Get out."  
  
Remus left. 


End file.
